The Youngest River Daughter
by Eisheth
Summary: Galdor the Bard, fresh from Gondor, stops for the night at the Prancing Pony. There, he weaves a tale of the new king's past, of river-daughters, magic, unrequited love and in the end, death.
1. Prelude

**The Youngest River Daughter**

_Prelude_

It was a warm, summer's night when Galdor the Bard walked into the Prancing Pony to quench his thirst for wine.

He was garbed in a rainbow cloak, patches of every color sewn together in a riot of hues which made him stand out from the standard earthen shades. He was smiling and laughing easily, as if to match his joyful attire, and caught the attention of one of the barmaids as he sat down with a tankard of ale. Her name was Ivetta, a buxom woman who sauntered over and asked if he what sort of traveler he was, with his cloak and grins.

"A bard, my dear lady!" Galdor replied, and out of the cover of his cape he pulled out a small harp and drew his fingers across the strings to illustrate his profession. The delicate sound attracted the attentions of many and soon he had attracted a group of men and barmaids, all pushing tankards of ale and goblets of wine towards him for a story.

"Tell us of Gondor! Of the war! Of the new king!" they clamored and Galdor was more than happy to oblige.

"My friends," He began, "As luck would have it, I have just traveled from Gondor. And yes, I know many tales of the new King, King Aragorn, called Elessar Telcontar by his lords and ladies,"

"You mean _Strider_?" a voice came from the crowd and Galdor nodded sagely.

"The very same. Perhaps, as some of you know, you remember him from his days as a mere Ranger. He was brought up in Rivendell, the Last Homely House, although the elves who dwelt there have all but passed over the sea. There he was called Estel, which means hope in the Elven tongue—"

"You speak Elvish?"

"Alas, no. But I have known many Elves, and each have told me the same story. He came and meant many in his time spent in the Last Homely House, but! I shall tell you a tale of one hardly anyone knows. It was given to told to me in confidence," he lowed his voice to a mere whisper, making the crowd gather closer, "But it is too beautiful a tale to not retell."

He took a drink of his wine, letting his audience to take the bait. As he predicted, they did and began his story:

"Long ago, when the War of the Ring did not exist in anyone's mind and our fathers were children, the King, then known as Estel, dwelt in Rivendell. He had been put there by his mother in hopes of his protection, and had been brought up by the Lord of Rivendell, Elrond…"


	2. Part One

**The Youngest River Daughter**

_Part One_

"Elrond was a kind man, but stern and taught the little Ranger well. Estel was educated in the ways of history, learning about the Elves' coming to this land from the sea, and of the fall of noble men in Western isles. He was taught how to use a sword, and fire an arrow like any noble Elf-lord. And in these things he became a master, outdoing even his foster-brothers, Elrond's twin sons.

"But the Ranger-heir was also curious. He knew he was different from the Elves, and different from the occasional Mannish visitors the Last Homely House received. Growing up, he wondered where he fit in…but that, my friends, has no bearings upon the tale at hand.

"And so he grew older, wiser and of course, more handsome." Galdor paused as the barmaids tittered, then continued, "When he would venture outside of Rivendell, he made the ladies weep, so fair was his visage. And while he spoke to them in courtly terms, he found each one of them lacking. For he had been brought up with the fairest creatures in all the land, and knew of true beauty.

"One day, in his twentieth year, he was by the banks of the Loudwater River, hunting. It was a beautiful day, just upon the bridging of summer and autumn, when the breeze bites but the sun is as warm as a maiden's smile. The late-blooming flowers were bountiful upon the bank, in the shade where he sat, the loam cool and damp. He was singing the lay of Lúthien and Beren, which is oft heard among young lovers now in Gondor. And as he sang, he looked to see an Elven lady, clad in silver with stars bound in her hair. Lúthien, he thought, and called out to her 'Tin—"

"My friend, we have heard this tale many times!" said one of the audience, a Halfling by the looks. There were rumbles of agreement, but Galdor merely smiled and paused to whet his voice.

"It is not their tale I am telling. For, while Estel had seen the fair daughter of Elrond, Arwen, another woman had seen Estel.

"Her name was Lilywillow, the daughter of the Loudwater River. Her laugher came in the waves of the water and her smiles in the reflection of the sky. She watched Estel with curiosity, for she had never seen a man so well formed as he. And so she crept out of her home, the bed of the Loudwater, to the banks. Hidden behind a tree, she could hear him singing and to her, it was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"And with sadness, she watched as the fair Elven maid appeared, for she knew with a pang that Estel had fallen in love with Arwen Undómiel. She stayed as they talked, returning to the river once they had departed to the Last Homely House. Once in the river, she went downstream to meet with the Greyflood. From the Greyflood she went to the sea, where she laughed with the dolphins and danced with the fish. And from the sea, she went to the Great River, called the Anduin by the Rohirrim and Gondorians. It was here she found Silverleaf, her oldest river-sister.

"Silverleaf was not the most beautiful of the river-daughters, but the wisest and knew of everything. She knew of arcane lore and magic beyond the knowledge of men, ancient magic which has not existed upon our lands for thousands of years. She knew the first man and the first Elves who traipsed over her land long ago.

"To her, Lilywillow went, asking if there was a way to undo love. For she now knew herself to be in love with Estel, and in her innocence, thought it could be undone with a few wise words. But Silverleaf knew better.

"'No, my sister, for then doom shall come upon you,' she said to Lilywillow, who was the youngest of the river-daughters, and the most unknowing.

"Poor Lilywillow despaired. But Silverleaf told her of a form of magic which had not been practiced for centuries, something which could capture Estel, if she wished it.

"'It was practiced by the fairies, before the beings of the Valar graced the land. I can turn you mortal, to live with Estel, but to work, the magic needs your voice as payment.' Silverleaf told her sister, and Lilywillow nodded, comprehending. She longed to look upon Estel again, for are we not all fools when it comes to love?

"'I have no need of my voice, dear river-sister, to be with Estel is enough.' Said Lilywillow, and Silverleaf made a potion, chanting in an old tongue which has been lost to every creature save the rivers for centuries. It was a work of deep magic, known not even to the wizards. And when she was done, she gave it to Lilywillow and told her to return home to the Loudwater, for she could not travel as quickly with legs as she could in the waves.

"She followed her sister's instructions and returned to her dwelling place within the Loudwater, where she took the potion, perhaps a bit recklessly but she considered herself no fool.

"Now, river-daughters are queer creatures. They are neither Halfling, human nor Elf, but the children of the river-spirits and can command the water around them. They are also the most exquisite ladies to walk the lands in this age, fairer than any Elf, always robed in a silver or green raiment of the trees and water. They enchant the hearts of many, but rarely leave their rivers, for that is where they belong. Save Lillywillow, who was foolish enough to do so.

"Once taken the potion, Lilywillow felt limbs and a body materialize in the waves and suddenly felt a strange feeling in her chest. She pushed herself upwards to the air, and took her first breath as a human. She had taken shape as a maiden before, of course, but it was odd to be one truly.

"She staggered around, as bare as any new-born babe, taking in the odd sensations of being…human. She found she could not understand the trees, or the water, or the flowers, and when she tried to talk to them, she remembered the price she had given for morality. In the gloamy, dimmed sunlight, she danced, wondering if all humans felt this jubilation at the beauty and wonderment of a purple sky reflecting in the water. And soon, her eye lids began to feel heavy as she stopped and laid upon the grass to sleep for the first time in her life, thinking that tomorrow she would find the Last Homely House and Estel within."

Galdor wrapped his multi-colored cloak around him, pausing to catch his breath. The audience had gone quiet, engrossed in web which he was spinning.

"What happened next? Did Lilywillow see Estel – Strider the next morning?" Motta, the barmaid who had brought the tale upon the Prancing Pony, asked. Galdor merely smiled.

"Patience, fair one, the tale is only just beginning," And after another sip of wine, he continued.


End file.
